Oh Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountainside.
The summer's gone, and all the roses falling.
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow,
'Tis I'll be there in sunshine or in shadow.
Oh Danny Boy, Oh Danny Boy, I love you so.
But when ye come, and all the flowers are dying
If I'm dead, as dead I well may be.
Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an Ave there for me.
And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me,
And o'er my grave will warmer, sweeter be,
For you will bend and tell me that you love me,
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.
From glen to glen, and down the mountainside.
The summer's gone, and all the roses falling.
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow,
'Tis I'll be there in sunshine or in shadow.
Oh Danny Boy, Oh Danny Boy, I love you so.
But when ye come, and all the flowers are dying
If I'm dead, as dead I well may be.
Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an Ave there for me.
And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me,
And o'er my grave will warmer, sweeter be,
For you will bend and tell me that you love me,
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.